Saturday, December 31, 2011

A Treatise of the Body Exterior

This sense we perceive of some physical machine, which is that which is the body of the person, is comprised in most of parts of parts, loosely held together by strings.  The form of these strings is such that it forms systems as it might be known of operations that to the external perception are physical in nature, while in truth they are manifestations of a natural extension of something that is entirely non-physical.  Therefore the motion of the body is purely a thought, and the thought is focused perception, within a domain of potential.
We all think the same thoughts, as a common conscious decision, and individual thought is but an extension of this like mind, perpetuated as a stream of repetitive design.  Some concern is present in the deviations were they that, but expressions of the common, moderated.

If not of the knowledge of the class of thought projections, and therefore unaware of levels of perception that exist within the levels of consciousness, there are manipulations of this stream at levels that are not common.  The extension of this pattern, or patterns present, is extensions of echoes from the stream that exist not in time or space, but in a void of time and space, that has no conscious deceptions.

Knowing this, is of importance to those who do know of the class of minds, and the void, and betwixt the two the separation of thought and void, therefore operate within the stream to manipulate the common stream.  Such examples as; the pebble in the pool so large that the ripples are perceived as random and unconscious, are concepts that to the common stream are evident, but deceptive in nature.  If no time or space is present, then that which is now, past, or future have no meaning, and therefore there is no meaning to these streams of conscious thought, but for those that are aware of their relationship, and therefore have the means, provided they have the means, to cause such ripples to occur.

This gives the common stream the perception of random and individual, while for the rare individuals that are aware of the common stream, they chose which perceptions are projected in the stream in common.  The bases for all is but a thought of one, and if one were to think of something, all would then know this as the one knows it, through means as subtle and derived as through the weaving of fibers of silk in a tapestry.  If there was but one thought, the void would be singular, all thought would then be the result of a single source, and no thought would stray from the source perception.  However other such devices provide repetitive duplication of such sources, and as multiple sources provide additional repetitions of such sources, the simple becomes complex in perception, and the attenuation of the ripples becomes difficult to manipulate.  Over a period of time, as it were, this has created a variation of perception that has diluted the purity of thought to the extent that only the most persistent of conjurers are now enabled with the means to inject diversity of thought within the common stream.

If not for man, all existence would cease to be perceived.  This is the assumed perception, and that if we humans were not present that the remaining echoes of perception would at some point cease to rebound, and the now existing physical existence would then cease to be needed.  That we humans believe this, that we have this concept of belief is not expressed in any form, but that we acknowledge it in the belief in some other form, to provide us with reason for the existence of such other existence as we currently perceive.  That any such existence of natural physical order could have existed prior to our own existence is accepted only on this same basis.  There needed to be existence previous to our existence, and therefore we have been provided with that perception through our own creation of a past that we had to believe in order to fully justify our own existence in the present.

Right to the creation of the universe, to the extension of our own arrogance in the belief that we humans have any part of this natural existence, and that we are but one other perception of the entire perception of another perception of this time and space in which we exist.  Given another time or space and we have no purpose, and therefore do not exist, and that would not prove our existence, but only provide proof of existence in general, but who or what is the source.  The more important question is why?  This is what I will attempt to consider over the next few brief periods, as to why this perception, why this existence, why not are we here, but why are we, or not we, but anything, and to what gain would it serve for any such stream, or none.

If there is nothing, then nothing needs to be, so if there is something, then why the complex illusion when a simple one would have just as easily been as deceptive, and would not have required this level of attention to detail.  If but a biological manipulation of matter and energy, for what purpose.  Further, if there is no purpose but to reproduce duplications of the same, why the need for the perception of advancement, and why not proceed continuous in natural harmony.  Why would discord be needed, what self destructive form is needed for what reason.  All forms of theory do not apply, as they do not answer the simple inquiry of why this construct, when a simple one would have created a similar result.

If not an external influence, what internal driver creates its own demise?  Why think at all, if thought only creates greater deception of perception, and more common ignorance, why do when not doing would have provided the same.  For example, if a simple biological construct of nature, due to elemental alignments of matter and energy in a particular formula derived from error, and for the purpose of reproduction, why the grand deception then of something that is entirely unneeded for the natural progression.  A kernel of corn needs no grand entrance or dramatic exit, it just grows, consumes as much energy as is present at its time of growth, and then ceases, creating a new copy or copies of itself for continuous repetitious natural progression.  If left without manipulation from either external or internal forces, it would not do else wise.  Pressure from external threats and reaction to internal organization of random splices, creates new strains, but no other formula of purpose is necessary.  No representative purpose is required. 

As I continue along this stream, I will continue to wonder, with a knowledge that continues to provide me with something I have not seen in others, and therefore I will provide this, provided it does not present a result that causes current harm to myself or another.

Slow wit

What the hell am I doing here, this place, where I am at.  If I...

Friday, December 30, 2011

New Years Gift

For those that wonder, what the hell am I up to, well here is a taste of what is being now rewritten to be released most likely in the early part of January.  This is just a snippet of a second draft, but I think it will give you a little feel for what is coming.  Don't mind the names, they are still up for debate, as are some other details, but the story is fully developed, has been for many years, it was just waiting for today to get out from the notebook into cyberspace.

My News Years Gift to all of you, enjoy.

Sleeping Dogs
“Well it is about time we got to work, don’t you think?” John said to the crew of men who were working on the (Greek word for dog).  If they were not already working such long hours now, they would be, and he knew they were capable of much more.

As a chorus rose in practiced harmony, “Dogs don’t work this hard on Mars” they all sang.
John knew the refrain to that old song; he knew it from every point of view.  He had been where they are, back in the days of exploration, when the shuttles still rode rockets into near earth orbit.   He remembered the stories of the old men who walked upon the surface of Luna minor.  He remembered the songs of the old worlds, separate and divided.  He also remembered the call of frontier, and how he labored in his studies just to be given the opportunity to work on a Russian shuttle craft.

All that work, all that time spent learning languages, and other sciences, just so he could turn bolts, seemed now a waste in the face of the new private industry that just built tugs to haul rocks.  It was not all for naught, no, he wasn’t turning bolts any more, he was turning lose screws into Luna Base crews.
John Stendowsky (something like that), born of Bosnian immigrant parents in Wisconsin, U.S.A. as it was then known.  He was a bright boy, mostly, full of wonder and too much mischief, but most of them were.  He also had the same desire and dreams many young men of the times had.  John wanted to fly planes or better yet rockets.  It was his father that really set him on his course, his father was a nuclear engineer, and encourage his son to follow the path of science and engineering, as his father had fostered him.  Third generation engineer, was what John was destined for, until he got his first taste of weightlessness.

It was a summer we all would remember so well.  Just out of 8th grade, and full of fantasies of budding breast and romantic beliefs in machines that could take us to distant galaxies.  When Mr. Stendowsky asked if we wanted to go to watch the last shuttle launch from the Kennedy Space Center, we forgot about Julie Munson, and Betty Natchez, and all the others.

John, Mr. Stendowsky, myself, and Christopher Petticowski all piled into the car early in the morning, and although it took two days to get there, no one but Chris complained in the least.

Chris was 18, and just recently passed his driver’s test, so he wanted to drive, but Mr. Stendowsky would not allow it.  The Cadillac was his ship to pilot, and the subject was not a topic of discussion.  Chris was not one to let such “spyashchuyu sobaku” as John’s father often would say.  It was a long time before I knew what he was saying.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

I was working on a project, I had tentatively titled "Cooking With Arleta".  Arleta for anyone that does not already know is my wife, and she is a passionate and superb cook.  This was supposed to be a collaboration between us, incorporating some of my style with mostly her style, with me writing it, as I happen to write often. I was hoping this project would go quickly and I would have it done by this Spring, but while I feel that this should be easily accomplished, it most likely will not be this year.  Therefore I will be writing another book instead, one that also has been waiting in the wings, although I can not at this time provide any reasonable time table, as it is only in rough draft.

I will provide more when more is known, thank you for your patients and attention.


Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Well the book "Another Fey Tail" has been downloaded 84 times so far, so I hope that will be good for later, when I release the next episode in the series.  Episode three should be out sometime in the first week of January, with episode 4 following about two weeks there after.  I am going to try to get them out every two weeks, as I also will be releasing two other works in serial format, as well as two books, sometime this spring.  I am hoping that everyone will like the serial format, as I like the way it works for me.  It allows me to get some of the work out there while I complete the rewrites on the rest of it.

I have already started the second book in the series, and as it stands right now, it will only be two books, which once released fully in serial format, will be released in a collection of the two volumes in hard cover format, sometime around this time next year.  I really hope to release the hard cover format around the end of November of 2012, but that remains to be seen.  The softcover format as well as Kindle collected versions will then follow, about two months there after, most likely spring of 2013.

In the mean time, there is the serial format, which can be purchased on Amazon and soon (sometime after April) on other sites as well.  As this is the first of my publications in quite some time, the last was a poem published in an anthology, or was it a magazine, about 20 some odd years ago.  I have quasi published some off the wall stuff through the use of this blog, as well as just stuff I have written on various forums, other blogs, and social sites.  Most of that is lost to the web, and although I remember some of it, a lot of it is just stuff that comes off the cuff, and is more exercises than anything else.

That's about it for today, a rather boring and uninteresting post I am certain, but I will maybe get another one out with more general interest later, or tomorrow, or the next day.  I would like to be more consistent in my posting, but there are so many things I do, that it just doesn't always seem I can get these things done.

Well the dogs need to be fed and I am thinking I would like to get to bed early tonight maybe, so this is it for now, and if I do post something later, it will most likely be just a re-post of something I found while surfing the wild world web.

Peace to everyone;